Trehan wanted to end that mouthy plant. Then I'd enfold her in my arms and tell her that all will be well. He found himself easing closer to her.
"I know what they plan for me," she said. "Oh, why won't Cas come?"
Always she thinks of that f**king demon.
Just before Trehan reached Bettina, Caspion appeared beside her, steps away from tracing directly into Trehan!
"Tina," the demon murmured, reaching for her.
She rose, her face crumpling as she launched herself at Caspion.
It isn't his right to embrace her. She is mine! Only centuries of honed self-discipline kept Trehan from ripping them apart. Investigate, Trehan. Delve. You know so little about her. . . .
Caspion whispered something in her ear, something Trehan couldn't hear. She gave him a wobbly smile, gazing up at the demon with open adoration. Hearing of her affection for Caspion was one thing, seeing it another.
Kill him. Trehan's hand fell to his sword, but before he could act, Caspion traced away with Bettina in tow.
Where had that bastard taken her? Trehan's gaze darted. When the two appeared on the grandstand, he exhaled with relief.
Only to tense once more-Caspion was striding toward the sign-in table? When the demon lifted the quill and dagger, the crowd cheered.
That son of a bitch! Trehan recalled the invitation. All competitors were mystically protected. With a swipe of the blade and a scratch of the quill, Caspion had entered the lists-removing himself from Trehan's reach.
At least until the tournament ended.
I can wait till then to kill him. Caspion might not even make it past the first round. Another might do Trehan's work for him.
Or I could enter. Two birds with one stone. He'd have no choice but to kill Caspion.
And Bettina would have to forgive me. . . .
Raum, the apparent master of ceremonies, motioned for the crowds to quiet down. "Tidings to the Abaddonae, fiercest of all the demonarchies!" More cheers. "And also to those from offplane who've journeyed here for our-humble-little tournament." Laughs sounded. "Together with my cohost, the all-powerful Morgana, we welcome you."
When he indicated her with a jerk of his chin, she rose. Without a wave or gesture of any sort, she swept her gaze over the crowd as if staring down every single attendee.
Only when the crowd had grown utterly silent did she sit again. She whispered something to Bettina, something that made the girl nod warily.
"Now, the stakes of this contest are high. Each round is to the death, yet one will have no fighting at all. Perhaps a game of wits? Ah, but never a game of chance! You have to earn Princess Bettina's hand, proving yourself worthy of her line."
Raum held up a gold case-the one that housed Bettina's summoning medallion? "Yes, the stakes are high, but the rewards are commensurate. The victor will win dominion over the fair princess herself!"
Dominion. Trehan nearly growled.
Bettina's face heated, her fists balling. She was clearly unhappy about her circumstances; so why had she allowed herself to be offered up? Last night, she'd said, "They willed it."
Then Raum held up a crown. "And the right to rule the Deathly Ones."
An armored storm demon-from a demonarchy infamous for its harems-shouted, "I'm already a royal. I'm only here to plow the princess!"
Guffaws sounded. Bettina flinched as if struck. Just as Trehan tensed to attack the male, Morgana stood once more, with her braids coiling like whips. In a clear, ringing voice, she snapped, "Respect-is-not-optional." Swirls of sorcery radiated from her.
Raum gave Morgana a quelling look, then asked the crowd, "Now, have all the competitors been accounted for? The deadline nears."
Your female or your kingdom? Trehan stared hard at his Bride, compelled to be near her, to be touching her this very instant.
Just then, she glanced down at her twining fingers. When she looked up again, her eyes were watering, her little mask askew.
Should I protect her, even if she doesn't want my protection?